"Tell me what my greedy queen needs," he rasps. "Or I’ll make you take everything."
The dirty promises combined with his thumb on my clit and his cock hitting that perfect spot sends me over the edge. I come with a cry, clenching around him so hard he groans.
"Fuck, Laney." He thrusts harder, faster, chasing his own release. "You feel so perfect when you come. So fucking perfect."
I'm still riding the aftershocks when he buries himself deep, pressing me down hard on him, and comes. His thick cock jerks inside me with each pulse of cum. His groans turn feral, his eyes don’t leave where we’re connected.
He finishes with a stretched out, "Fu-uu-uuck," and then holds me in place on his cock as we both come down.
I stay where I am, not ready to let go of the moment, tracing his scars and tattoos with my fingertips.
"I could get used to this," I say without thinking.
"Good. Because I'm planning on keeping you." He gently begins to lift me from him, and I mewl at the loss. "Careful, Laney. Making sounds like that will have me feral again and you need a break." He disappears into another room, returning with a glass of water and warm washcloth, handing the water to me while he gently dabs at my center.
"You take me so well, but you’re very swollen now," he observes. "Such a pretty pussy, I could look at it all day."
He drops the cloth onto the bedside table and kisses my forehead.
It briefly crosses my mind that I had a life before Laurie went missing. She and I had a plan and it didn’t involve falling forthe Bratva man who helped me save her. But I want exactly this. Him. This bed. This view. This feeling of being claimed and cherished at the same time.
"When can we leave for the safehouse?" I ask, because if I don’t fill the silence with something I’m scared that I might confess my thoughts.
"Whenever you're ready. But first—" He kisses my forehead. "Shower. Breakfast. Then we'll go."
The shower is another revelation.
Yakov has one of those enormous rainfall showerheads. He washes me carefully, mindful of the bruises on my throat and the soreness between my legs.
It's intimate in a way that has nothing to do with sex. The way he works shampoo through my hair. The way he soaps my back. The way he just... takes care of me.
"You're good at this," I say. "At taking care of people."
"Only you." He rinses the soap off my shoulders. "I don't do this for anyone else. Never have."
"Never?"
"Never." He turns me to face him. "You're different, Laney. You make me want things I didn't think I was capable of wanting."
"Like what?"
"Like mornings. And breakfast. And seeing you in my bed every day for the rest of my life."
My breath catches.
"Too fast?" He cups my face. "I know it's too fast. I know we barely know each other. But I also know what I feel, and I'm not going to pretend I don't feel it just because it's unusual."
"What do you feel?"
"That you're mine. That I'm keeping you. That I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure you never want to leave." His thumb brushes over my lips, then he switches of the shower and steps out, leaving me wanting more as he grabs a towel and wraps it around me.
Breakfast is eggs and toast and coffee so strong it could wake the dead. We eat at his kitchen island, me in borrowed clothes, one of his t-shirts that hangs to mid-thigh, him in fresh jeans and a henley that shows off his arms.
"I need to get my stuff from the hotel lobby. I came straight from the airport to here yesterday, so I left it with the luggage department," I say between bites of eggs. "And we should figure out what to do about Laurie's apartment. All her things are still there."
"We'll deal with Laurie's apartment today when we go to the safehouse." He refills my coffee. "What do you want to do? Go back to Sacramento? Stay in Vegas? Something else?"
"I don't know." I've been so focused on finding Laurie that I haven't thought about after. "I was working my notice in Sacramento, preparing to move here and join Laurie."
